Category Archives: Nepal

It's not all idyllic beaches. And it shouldn't be. All those glossy magazines aimed at people who collect beautiful beach destinations and pretentious lists of the world's best this and that (and you know who you are Travel + Leisure and Conde Nast Traveler and Islands) aren't for people who are out to see the world as it is.

It's refreshing to have run across two seperate blog posts this past week that run counter to the cliché. In Heaven and Hell in the Phi Phi Islands, Patrick Smith takes to task a lovely spot on the Andaman Sea that he writes has been ruined by backpackers.

I'm sure he's right. We passed through Phi Phi in 1995 and completely loved it. But even in 1995 the little isthmus of land adjacent to the arrival docks was showing signs of coming ruin. Smith suggests that in the intervening fifteen years, Thai tourism officials have used the light touch that has made Pattaya all that it is today. In 1995, at least, Phi Phi was beautiful:

The other refreshingly honest article is called The Tragedy of Nepal 2011, in which Andrew Hyde finds "a developing nation with deep problems becoming worse by the month with tourism hastening the poisoning of the well." We writes that "A deep depression hit me about an hour into my visit to Nepal and lasted for the first two weeks."

We've been in Nepal twice. The first time we were charmed by the country but alarmed by the pollution that hung over the Kathmandu valley. The second time we stayed at Nagarkot (described this way, "At an elevation of 2,195 meters, it is considered one of the most scenic spots … renowned for its sunrise view of the Himalaya including Mount Everest as well as other snow-capped peaks of… eastern Nepal.") and never saw a single mountain through the haze.

Everyone knows the developing world has its problems. Seeing them shouldn't ruin your travel experience. To the contrary, when you're back home it's most rewarding to have gone and seen and to be able to understand. I salute Patrick Smith and Andrew Hyde for their honesty.

(On the other hand, if I picked one of those expensive, delicious Aman Resorts (1, 2) out of one of those glossy magazines, I wouldn't want it to rain while I was there, either.)

Ashray Raj Gautam waited in the dark before dawn. Men worked under the hood of his Toyota Corolla while we stuffed our things in its trunk. We pushed the car down the hill to get it started, and little Gautam took us to a town called Banepa, north of Kathmandu. Mirja bought junk food, I bought cheap Indian whiskey, and Gautam disappeared.

We waited for a long time, and when Gautam came back he had a confession. He did a sheepish, dusty little shuffle.

“We came here with no fan belt.”

He was sure we could get one in Banepa but he couldn’t find one.

“Excuse me sir, we have to wait for new car from Kathmandu one hour.” He went to find a phone.

So we were off, sort of, driving from Kathmandu to Lhasa. Our Tibet travel permits would be waiting at the border. The fellow who booked us said don’t bring pictures of the Dalai Lama (I had five), and don’t be surprised if the police follow you – they’re not too used to private visitors.

Surprising results in the article Where’s the remotest place on Earth? in New Scientist magazine summarized by this map: “less than 10 per cent of the world’s land is more than 48 hours of ground-based travel from the nearest city.”

Having traveled between Kathmandu, Nepal and Lhasa, Tibet (Tibet, like Greenland, looks very remote on the map), I’d note that the “ground-based travel” the article refers to must be by big, hearty vehicles.

Leaving Kathmandu by LandCruiser, we arrived at Xigatse, Tibet’s second city, on the third day.

Ashray Raj Gautam waited in the dark before dawn. Men worked under the hood of his Toyota Corolla while we stuffed our things in its trunk. We pushed the car down the hill to get it started, and little Gautam took us to a town called Banepa, north of Kathmandu. Mirja bought junk food, I bought cheap Indian whiskey, and Gautam disappeared.

We waited for a long time, and when Gautam came back he had a confession. He did a sheepish, dusty little shuffle.

“We came here with no fan belt.”

He was sure we could get one in Banepa but he couldn’t find one.

“Excuse me sir, we have to wait for new car from Kathmandu one hour.” He went to find a phone.

So we were off, sort of, driving from Kathmandu to Lhasa. Our Tibet travel permits would be waiting at the border. The fellow who booked us said don’t bring pictures of the Dalai Lama (I had five), and don’t be surprised if the police follow you – they’re not too used to private visitors.

Common Sense and Whiskey, the blog, is companion to EarthPhotos.com, our collection of 20,000+ photos from 120 countries and territories around the world.

My wife and I live on a horse farm in Young Harris, Georgia, and spend parts of every summer in our tiny cabin on Lake Saimaa in Finland. Because my day job has outfitted me with audio equipment, I am available for studio quality broadcast author interviews via SourceConnect.

As to the increased political chatter here lately, I just can't help it.